A Berry Amusing Way To Deal With An Awkward Situation

For my family friend’s sixteenth birthday, we went to see Alfred Ellis play at an open garden concert. It was a casual picnic-style affair, but due to certain members of the five families being extremely culinary, it turned into a buffet, to the point that we needed tables, which we brought. During the first intermission, the ten teenagers were ready to descend on the food like wild animals, but we were raised better than our instincts, so we each grabbed a plate and lined up.

We then realised that we had a longer line than expected. About thirty people had lined up behind us. The sweet little old lady behind me asked where the till was, so we had to explain to people that it was a private meal for someone’s birthday.

Most were very understanding — and were given a plate of what we had not touched later — but one woman decided that, because we had set it up the way we had, we were wait staff, we were liars, and we would be comping her food for the trauma she had suffered. We were middle-class white kids in Somerset in the early 2000s. You could not get sadder or more diverse in clothing. We did not look like waitstaff. If she had called us vagrants, hippies, or gangsters, she may have been closer.

During her rant, a strawberry landed on her hat. She didn’t notice. But we sure did. So now she had something to scream about, as we were laughing at her FOR NO REASON, HOWDAREWEVERYMUCH! Then, another strawberry hit her, hard enough for her to notice. She looked up and a raspberry got her in the chin.

Unfortunately for her, the emotional infants of the group — two of the dads, mine included — had decided that the pile of strawberries and raspberries for pudding could be sacrificed in order to put her in her place. It took a few tries for her to get it, but every time she opened her maw to carry on, they would chuck a strawberry at her. She left when we all moved to join in.

The best part was when we spotted her far away, over-gesturing at what was clearly a manager. He gave the excellent response of a “What do you expect me to do about it?” shrug. He didn’t come over.

I also got to meet Alfred Ellis when he became a doctorate at my university some years later. My friend was extremely jealous.